


Roses are Red

by General_Button



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Hanahaki AU, Hanahaki Disease, Klancereversebang, M/M, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 13:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14379414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Button/pseuds/General_Button
Summary: Lance finds his unrequited love for Keith is growing out of hand and might just be the literal death of him.





	Roses are Red

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was written for the klancereversebang! The artist's piece can be viewed [here](http://cthulhuchuu.tumblr.com/post/173204497488/klance-speed-dating-au-go-read-five-minutes). I love this AU so I hope I did it justice.

**LANCE**

It started with a tickle in his throat and Keith’s smile.

“Hey,” Lance said, his voice _sotto voce,_ keeping it quiet for the other paladins who had just woken up and were trying to retain their grasp on the world.

“What?” Keith asked, listening only half-heartedly; he was busy watching Shiro attempting to get coffee out of the alien coffee machine and failing miserably. It was actually pretty funny to watch.

Lance was about to continue his tirade on how Alteans could really improve the state of their breakfast if they had wheat, when Keith suddenly started laughing. It wasn’t weak morning laughter, but _real_ laughter, the kind that started loud and stayed that way.

Lance watched Keith effectively lose his shit, struck by how much he liked that kind of smile on Keith’s face. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, Lance was reminded that Keith wasn’t as stoic as he pretended to be.

“Sorry,” Keith said when he noticed multiple eyes on him. “I was just—watching Shiro try to get coffee out of there and it was really funny.” Another errant giggle escaped him and he bit his lip in an effort to quell his humor. “Sorry, Shiro.”

“It’s fine,” Shiro said, sounding like it was anything but. He glowered at the coffee stain on his shirt and heaved a loud sigh. “I’ll be right back.”

“What were you saying, Lance?”

Lance blinked. Now that Keith’s attention was on him, he realized he’d been staring at him really hard for the last few seconds and quickly averted his gaze. Keith didn’t seem to take notice, leaning forward to encourage him to speak.

“Something you wanted to talk about?”

“Nah, nothing.” Lance swallowed against the ticklish feeling in his throat and returned to his meal. “Just thinking out loud about how I really miss Earth cereal. This is…uh—”

“Not cereal, that’s for sure,” Pidge interrupted, swirling her spoon around her bowl. “Who came up with this again?”

“It’s some kind of old family recipe of Coran’s,” reminded Hunk. “It’s okay.”

“It’s disgusting is what you mean,” Lance said. “When he said it was like cereal I got all excited. I mean, come on!”

He gestured to the slop on his spoon which slid back into his bowl with a resounding _plop._

“Yugh.”

Keith shrugged. “It’s…it’s okay.”

“Easy for you to say. What was it you lived off of in that cabin? Beans?”

Keith turned and served Lance a familiar look, long-past being truly annoyed by his antics.

“Yeah, beans. It wasn’t like I could go to the store or anything,” he drawled. Then, unable to contain himself, he started smiling that same, soft smile that made something inside Lance form into a ball.

The tickle in his throat came back full force and he had no choice but to cough, hiding it behind his palm.

“I think I’m finished eating anyway,” Keith added, side-eyeing him. “Don’t let me catch whatever you’ve got.”

“It’s just a cough!” Lance called, turning to watch Keith dispose of his tray and leave—probably to start training. He felt something brush his fingers and looked down. There was a single, vibrant red rose petal covered in his saliva. Lance reflexively touched his throat and then looked around for any signs that the petals might have fallen from somewhere.

“Did Coran buy flowers on his last run to the space mall?” Lance asked Hunk.

“No.” Hunk frowned at him. “Why are you asking?”

“Nothing, I just…” He stared down at the rose petal and worried it between his fingertips. “I found this petal. Must have picked it up on the last planet we were on.”

“Maybe.” Giving the petal a cursory stare, Hunk stood, having finished his own meal already.

“Maybe the replicator’s broken,” Pidge suggested.

Lance hummed in agreement. Whatever the cause, there were bigger things to worry about.

* * *

The next time it happened, they were helping farmers from a distant planet that were having difficulties transporting their crops. Voltron, of course, could offer them protection they would otherwise be missing, costing them thousands of credits and robbing them of supplies.

The planet—the name of which Lance couldn’t begin attempting to pronounce—had ginormous fields covered in their specific type of sustainable crop. In fact, it was all they ate. It looked kind of like corn, only the corn was glowing and it came out of its casing covered in slime. Even Hunk was a little put off by the space-corn, but his propensity towards anything culinary made him immediately start asking questions.

“So,” Hunk started, “when you say you eat the slime, do you, like, literally eat it off the plant or…?”

Lance focused on his feet, trying to save his brain from imploding and allow him to compartmentalize the information within a reasonable amount of time.

It wasn’t that the planet’s crop was so unbelievable to him, but while they’d had their fair share of physics-defying, gravity-bending, and insanity-inducing spaces, something about seeing a giant plantation reminded him so much of Earth that he wanted to cry.

He wondered what it smelled like. If it _actually_ smelled like corn, he was probably going to cry for real.

He was the first to remove his helmet, taking it off in a hasty manner before shoving it under his armpit. He sniffed the air. It was almost sickly sweet with the scent of the planet’s flora, but it didn’t smell anything like corn.

“Oh my quiznak, this place smells amazing.” Keith shot him an amused look as Lance took another deep breath, inhaling the scent and trying to commit it to memory. “Can we take some of this home? Because I would love it if the castle could smell like this all the time.”

“It is rather pleasant,” Allura said in agreement. She brushed her fingers over her hair, patting it for any loose hairs that would ruin her otherwise stately appearance. She always tried her best to look professional in front of any alien species, a trait that she often implied the rest of them could take note of.

“Thank you,” she added, facing the planet’s inhabitants.

Lance couldn’t remember what they were called (he’d been too distracted by the glowing corn, _hello);_ their names sounded a little like salsa and they looked almost human, except for the green skin, green hair, and the mushrooms growing out of the top of their heads.

“It’s nice,” Keith said, approaching one of the corn plants near where they stood. The planet’s surface was sodden and muddy in texture, but their feet didn’t sink in. It seemed that whatever phenomenon kept the plants alive also kept those living on them from sinking into the mud.

After they were given time to take it all in, they were lead to the species’ main city hall of sorts, which, like the rest of the city, was crafted out of plant material from their crop. Even Lance could admit that it was elegantly done, with stalks from the corn shaped into decorative elements.

“This is amazing,” Pidge breathed. “Do you think they have any kind of tech around here?”

“I mean, the Olkari make weapons tech out of plants—who’s to say these guys can’t?” Hunk responded. He was made of allergies, so kept his helmet squarely on his head. His fingers kept inching up his plating as if contemplating bringing it down even tighter.

Lance grinned and looped an arm around his shoulder. “Buddy, Hunk, I wish you could take a big ol’ whiff of this stuff. It’s amazing! Maybe you should give it a try.”

“Maybe,” he said slowly, eyeing Lance warily, “but it’s not really about trying. I’d rather not feel like my brain is trying to leak out of my nose while we’re here, thanks.”

Lance shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“I will, thanks,” Hunk replied, lips edging onto a grin at the pun. Lance returned his smile.

After that, Allura, Coran, and Shiro did their best to foster a good working relationship between Voltron and the planet while the rest of them went exploring the plantation around the main building. It didn’t take long before the natives took notice of their guests. Keith and Hunk were drawn aside by two of the plant-people who wanted to show them something and Pidge was able to find someone she could start asking questions about their tech. The way she was gesturing made Lance think that there was something amazing going on; he’d trust her to tell them all later.

And Lance—well, he was more interested in smelling the roses, so to speak.

He approached a stalk that was almost as tall as him and gently pried at the hard casing, curious to see if he could get a taste of the slime stuff without anyone seeing.

“It smells pretty bad, doesn’t it?” said a voice from behind him. “It tastes delicious, but the smell is not something we particularly enjoy.”

Heart jumping in his throat, Lance whirled around, hand twitching down towards his bayard, but when he realized it was a young girl he quickly relaxed. She blinked at him curiously, her irises the same pitch-black as everyone else who lived here.

“Hi! Um,” he flashed her a small smile, “I don’t know about you, but I think they smell really good. It’s kinda like the corn we have on Earth, actually. Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Lance.” He thrust his hand out, belatedly realizing that handshakes were a no go when she made no move to shake his hand.

“Lance. Likewise. I’m—” Yep, the translator had no idea how to give him that one. He’d call her plant-girl for now. “—it’s a pleasure. Did you say ‘corn’?”

She cocked her head, locks of green hair cascading down her shoulder. She was really pretty— for a plant girl—but Lance wasn’t interested in the way he once might have been. “Is that what you call them?”

“Yep. I mean they have a scientific name, but I don’t know it off the top of my head.”

She hummed thoughtfully, her mouth forming a frown. “How sad; I would have liked to know.”

“Yeah, well, if I could go back and get some, I would.” His attitude was beginning to sound a little somber, even for him; he mentally gave himself a wake-up slap and straightened, flashing the girl a cocky smile. “It’s too bad. I’d have loved to take you there sometime.”

“How nice,” she said, completely unaffected by his flirtations. Maybe he was ugly by her standards and brown hair just didn’t do it for her. He wondered if Keith would have been more her type, if she even had one.

His eyes gravitated towards the paladin in question before he could help it. The two natives who’d been helping him had planted a few short, flower-like stalks in his hair and were pressing their hands against his suit, explore the material with avid curiosity.

He looked happy. He was smiling.

When Keith looked up, Lance belatedly realized that he’d been caught staring.

“I—uh—” He didn’t know what kind of expression he was making, but by the way that Keith was looking at him questioningly, it wasn’t one he’d meant to reveal. He managed to tear his gaze away from Keith and return it to the plant girl. She was still staring at him expectantly, her patience as long and heartfelt as the rest of her people.

Lance laughed; it sounded forced. “What were we talking about?”

“Corn,” she replied. “But I have to go.”

“Oh. Uh, right. Yeah, I should—” He jerked his thumb at the paladins, “get back to it?”

He hadn’t meant to frame it as a question but it had come out that way. The girl nodded like she understood and started to walk away before he could say anything else.

After she’d gone, Lance scratched the back of his neck and stared at the space she’d occupied, feeling like things had gone awry inside himself. Normally he would have been all over her, so to speak, but the easy nonchalance that he had affected at the beginning of this outing had abandoned him, leaving him with a queasy feeling in his stomach. He started coughing again and turned away from the plant life, not eager to infect them with human diseases.

“Lance.”

It was Keith. Lance felt a stab of something in his gut like fear and started coughing again. Something slimy was clinging to the bottom of his tongue. Lance spit into the dirt, barely glancing at what he’d accidentally inhaled.

“Keith!” He exhaled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What is it with everyone and sneaking up on me?”

“I was calling your name,” Keith said, matter of factly. “Sorry you weren’t paying attention long enough to notice.”

His tone was teasing, but there was a small thread of worry that Lance refused to acknowledge.

“Uh huh.” Lance met his eyes and smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous I was talking to that hot alien girl and you were stuck getting—whatever put in your hair.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “It’s customary. I wasn’t going to refuse! They might get really offended.”

“Probably not a good idea,” Lance agreed. A smile still tugged at the edge of his lips when he imagined Keith mortally offending their leader. “I assume we’re going to be coming back for the next few weeks to foster more friendship or whatever. I don’t know that they’ll be that useful for war, though.”

The tone shifted, moving from teasing quips to the more serious matter of Voltron’s involvement.

“They could have a bio-weapon,” Keith suggested. He frowned uneasily. “Not sure how I feel about that, though.”

“Ditto.” Lance shuddered. “I feel like they could take us out at a moment’s notice with this radioactive corn stuff. It’s _everywhere._ And I think some slime got in my mouth.” Lance grimaced, afraid to swallow in case it really was poisonous. “It smells nice, but if any of it gets in my hair it’s going to be a bitch to get out.”

Keith laughed unexpectedly, his voice ringing loudly out in the open. Lance was so caught off guard that he stood there in shock. Seeing Keith laugh was rare in itself, but the addition of the flowers in his hair and the soft, happy smile on his face only multiplied the unpleasant clenching of Lance’s heart tenfold.

“Sorry,” Keith was saying, rubbing at the corner of his eye. “I don’t know why I thought that was so funny. Sometimes you surprise me, Lance.”

Lance’s throat felt tight. A ticklish feeling worked its way up his throat and he was coughing again before he could help it. The slimy feeling was back. Lance put his hands on his knees and spat into the dirt. He froze when he noticed what he’d coughed up.

“Lance? You okay?” Keith’s voice sounded above him. He felt a hand land on his lower back, brief and warm, but it only made Lance feel colder. He shuddered, eyes trained on the red petals lying in front of him.

When he spoke, he was surprised by how even his voice sounded.

“I’m fine.” He straightened and quickly kicked up some muddy dirt to hide the bright red petals. Thankfully, before Keith could inquire further, Lance noticed Allura trying to get their attention. The trepidation that he’d been feeling was quickly replaced with relief.

She was waving her arms excitedly, and when she saw Lance looking at her, she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted something.

“Keith, look. I think Allura wants to see us. Come on!”

He didn’t give time for Keith to protest. Lance took off, walking with a deliberate nonchalance towards the princess. It didn’t take long for Keith to catch up to him, and the two of them walked in a moderately uncomfortable silence until they reached Allura and Shiro. Keith could sense that something wasn’t quite right, but he was wise enough not to bug Lance about it when there was work to be done.

* * *

Lance couldn’t remember the last time he was sick. A few years ago a flu strain had been going around the garrison where Lance had suffered for about a week, but after that he’d always kept himself in good shape. He couldn’t imagine how something like this had happened.

He stared at the red petals sitting in his palm, dark as blood and covered in spit. _Bile._

There were more of them this time. The coughing had gotten worse. It was a trend that even Lance would be stupid to ignore.

He fingered the silky surface of one of the petals, marveling at how something so innocent could suggest something so deadly. The petals definitely didn’t _seem_ deadly. They were pretty, actually, and there were enough of them to cover the surface of his palm.

“Well this is just great,” he muttered, curling his fingers into a fist. Petals peeked out from between his fingers. Figuring that there was only one way to dispose of them without risking being caught, he walked to the bathroom and brushed them off his hand and into the toilet, making sure he didn’t miss a single one.

Lance sat on the bed. He tried to consider his situation rationally, but even thinking about thinking about Keith made his heart feel like it was trying to climb up his throat. When he raised his hand to his neck, he could feel his fingers shaking.

This was bad. This was _really_ bad.

Lance wasn’t in love. He _wasn’t_ in love. Not with Keith, of all people. It was just a crush that would eventually run its course. Maybe—maybe it was someone else who was in love, and it had just latched onto Lance’s blooming feelings. After all, Keith was hardly anything to write home about, with his cute smiles and his dorky hair…

Lance covered his mouth and swallowed against the feeling of petals pressing against his throat and the looming threat of the disease hanging over his head.

The only reason he remembered was because his aunt on his mom’s side had contracted the disease. She’d been stubbornly coughing up blue violets for weeks before she had done anything about it. Lance recalled the violet fits that plagued her at night, keeping her up until early in the morning.

Lance clenched his fists above his knees, something like terror sweeping through him.

Surgery was a no-go. He doubted Alteans had the tools required on a ship like this, anyway. He would just let it runs its course and eventually it would work itself out, like the flu. It would be easy.

Because Lance was not in love with Keith. It was just a stupid, hopeless crush that would end in heartbreak if he followed the lies this disease was trying to feed him. That was all.

* * *

Training quickly became a problem for Lance.

It wasn’t just that Keith was there because, if that were the case, he’d have to avoid him altogether. No; it was the way that Keith trained. He was constantly training even during off hours, and he was so much better than the rest of them that Lance had given up on pretending he wasn’t openly admiring his skill—especially the moves he’d picked up with the Blade of Marmora.

It was like he’d transformed from an awkward teenager to an assassin, full of fluidity and grace. He took down bots with a precision and mastery that Lance could only hope to employ one day. When the going got tough, Lance was more of a run-and-gun kind of guy.

“Lance!” Keith marched over to where Lance was fighting his own bot half-heartedly and smacked him in the butt with his pole. “I’ve been watching you struggle for five minutes. Come on, it’s like you’re not even trying.”

It was hard to concentrate when the object of your affections was simultaneously an unattainable dream and your worst nightmare. Lance glared at Keith, knocking his pole into the front of Keith’s calf.

“Dude I am _so_ trying. I’m just tired. It’s been a long few days.”

“All that corn shucking getting to you?” Keith teased, smirking. “I thought you could handle it.”

“Pfft. Please.” Lance steadied his pole in front of him, doing his best not to look like he was avoiding Keith’s eye while doing exactly that. “The corn’s easy, and the people are easier. They’re nice.”

“Yeah, they are.”

Lance could sense Keith waiting for him to continue and probably explain what was going on, but he didn’t feel up to the task. Besides, it wasn’t like he could try to explain what was wrong without divulging his deep, dark secret. Just imagining the disgust on Keith’s face was deterrent enough.

 _That’s right,_ he reminded himself, _there’s no need for surgery. I just need to wait for it to go away. I’m not even in love with him, so there’s really nothing to be worried about._

“All right. Let’s go, Lance.” Keith shoved the bot out of the way and took its place, twirling his weapon expertly. He pointed it at Lance. “Give me your best shot.”

Lance groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Right, because I need your help,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, you do,” Keith replied, a smirk flitting onto his face.

As Keith took the first shot, Lance swallowed down a mouthful of petals.

* * *

“Hey, Pidge.”

“Hm?” Pidge cocked her head in Lance’s direction. She was busy coding something for the space pods, but the fact that she answered at all was an indication that she wasn’t too bothered by his interruption.

“I, uh, have something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

Right to the point. Lance felt himself falter. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to come to her.

He’d assumed that she would be a good ear for observing things in a partial manner, but she’d never expressed interest in romance with anyone, paladin or otherwise. Not that he _wanted_ her to because _ew,_ but—still, she was the person he felt least vulnerable talking to about this kind of thing.

He’d just keep it subtle. Light conversation, with nothing too revealing about him or Keith or anything who might love anyone else.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Holy crow, why wouldn’t his mouth listen to his brain? He scrambled to think of a way to pull himself out of the hole he was digging while Pidge stared at him like she wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

“Not that I’m in love!” he exclaimed. “It’s someone—someone else. I can’t say.”

“Who?” she asked, drawing back in disbelief. Panic took hold of Lance.

“It’s Keith! He, uh, he said something about,” he paused, trying to come up with a plausible scenario, “Allura. He’s been hanging around her a lot, you know, so I was just—wondering if you’d been in love before so you could weigh in on this juicy bit of gossip.”

“Well I can’t say _I_ have, but it’s not like I wouldn’t know what to look for.” Pidge grinned. “You might be on to something. Keith _does_ seem like he enjoys disobeying Allura’s orders a little too much.”

“So, you really think he’s in love?” Lance asked, pressing her for more. “What would you say someone in love acts like?”

“I dunno.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell. They say you get those butterflies every time you’re around them and yadda yadda yadda.” She twirled her wrist, rolling her eyes. “Being in love is a lot like really wanting to be someone’s friend, I guess? Only you want to kiss them, probably a lot.”

Lance’s heart gave a heavy _thump._ He’d dreamt of kissing Keith too many times to count. Only kissing wasn’t something that ensured someone was in love, really.

“That sounds like a crush to me,” Lance said, feeling hopeful.

“Maybe.” Pidge shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d vote yes to Keith being in love and leave it at that. Let’s hope they work it out soon and ease the rest of our suffering. I hate when people pine in front of me.”  

“Right. Yeah, same. Thanks, Pidge!”

While it hadn’t been as enlightening as he had hoped, her lack of understanding made him feel like he could trust his instincts on this one. He wasn’t in love with Keith; he just really, really, _really_ liked him and wanted to kiss him and stuff.

Because if he was in love with Keith, then that meant Keith didn’t love him back.

* * *

Lance now woke up most mornings with petal clinging to his lips. They stuck to his tongue and slid up his throat, becoming larger as the days went by. His crush on Keith didn’t seem to be abating like he’d hoped it had. In fact, now that Keith was pretty much all he could think about, it was making things worse.

Concerted efforts were made by Lance to avoid Keith without being noticed and, since Keith was often busy with the Blades, he didn’t feel too guilty when the guy didn’t notice.

The others, however, did take notice.

“You okay?”

Lance swallowed down his instinctual retort. _No,_ he wasn’t okay, but he couldn’t tell Hunk that so it would be great if he’d stop asking. It was the fourth time this morning and Lance hadn’t even finished eating breakfast.

“I’m fine,” he grit out, shoving green goo into his mouth. “Are _you_ okay, Hunk?”

“Look, I’m just worried, okay? You have this thing with medication and not wanting to take it.”

“Just because I don’t like swallowing pills doesn’t mean I’m against medication,” Lance argued, pointing his spoon at Hunk. “I’m completely fine, by the way. No medication or otherwise needed.”

Lance had to resist the urge to wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead. By his standards fine was a spectrum; a very large spectrum. He felt like he was about to fall over from all the vomiting he’d been doing since Keith had come back, but his hope was that that wouldn’t last long.

“So, when’s the next Blade mission?” Lance asked, failing to keep the hope out of his voice. He’d never been good at being subtle.

“Soon,” Keith said cryptically. He frowned down at his bowl as if the goop they ate every morning had done something to personally offend him. “You always ask that.”

“I’m just curious, so sue me.”

“It’s like you want me to leave,” he said, quieter now.

“What? That’s—” he swallowed, feeling something poke at his throat. “That’s ridiculous. Why would I want my fellow paladin to leave? We’re buddies.”

“Sometimes I feel like you do.” Keith looked at him, his expression tight with worry. Lance’s heart gave a solid jerk, guilt gnawing at him.

His throat bobbed. He shoved himself away from the table and made for the bathroom.

He barely made it, hands shaking as he clung to the toilet seat and coughed and coughed. Lance couldn’t seem to stop coughing, and after a while bile turned into vomit. A shower of flowers spilled past his lips, spare petals falling onto the toilet seat and the floor. He retched for what felt like ages, eyes squeezed tight, just trying to hold onto his head while his stomach tried to exit through his throat.

By the time it was over, Lance was exhausted. He leaned his head against the rim of the toilet and waited for his head to stop spinning. He was almost afraid to look at the mess he’d made and face the evidence of his own situation, but somebody had to take care of the problem. Lance lifted himself and reached for the lever, unable to help looking into the water. What he saw made him stop short, a burst of sharp horror working through his shaking limbs.

Amid the petals, there was a flower. Not just any flower but a rose, small and separated from its stem as if it had been half-formed inside him. Lance felt his throat and touched the edge of his lips. He pulled his fingers back when he felt something wet.

Blood. There was blood.

He leaned back against the stall and buried his head between his knees, sucking air in short, quick bursts.

_What am I supposed to do? What’s happening to me?_

What should he do? What _could_ he do?

 _You could tell Keith,_ said a voice that sounded suspiciously like Hunk.

No. _No._ This was supposed to be just a crush. This _was_ just a crush, just—

“Lance?”

It was Hunk’s voice. He sounded worried.

“I’m here,” Lance croaked, wincing at the sound of his own voice. He swallowed and tried again. “Something up?”

“Oh, ew, what’s that smell? Lance, did you throw up?” Leave it to Hunk to not beat around the bush. “It stinks in here.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Lance wrapped his arms around his knees and closed his eyes. “You were right about me being sick.”

“Ha! I knew it. I mean, that sucks, man.”

“Yeah.” Lance glanced at the mess in the toilet and sighed. “Yeah, it does.”

“You okay?”

Lance didn’t answer immediately. Sucks didn’t even cover it. His feelings were rotting inside him, burning a hole in his gut. Only when they came up, they were beautiful, vibrant petals. The encapsulation of Lance’s feelings, opening up inside him and trying to escape.

It was terrifying to think about. Keith could never know. No one could know. Keith would hate him for it and it would tear them—Voltron—apart.

“I’ll be fine just go—” Lance started, but before he could even think about flushing the evidence away Hunk was shouldering his way inside the stall. “—Hunk! What are you doing?!”

“Helping you? I saw you sitting on the floor and—” He froze. “Holy quiznak. Are those—?”

“You need to get out of here!” Lance screeched, scrambling to his feet. He grabbed Hunk’s shoulders and tried to shove him out the doorway, but Hunk resisted with minimal effort, planting a hand on Lance’s shoulder, a sign that it was all over for Lance. Hunk was stalwart, staying put when he didn’t want to be moved.

“Are those flower petals? This is that—that thing. The love thing. I _knew_ something weird was going on. When I saw those petals on the floor around the castle I couldn’t figure out where they were coming from. Organic matter like that doesn’t exist anywhere apart from Earth and—” he stopped, the meaning behind his discovery suddenly occurring to him. “Holy crow, Lance. Oh my god.”

“Shut up!” Lance shoved at him again, managing to catch his shoulder on the edge of the door. They both stumbled, and it was Hunk who caught Lance when dizziness overtook him and he nearly went sailing.

“This is bad, Lance. This is _really_ bad.”

Lance closed his eyes, head spinning. “You’re telling me. I can’t get rid of this stupid thing.”

“Who is it?” Hunk set him against the wall, letting him stand on his own but hovering in the near vicinity. “Is it Allura? Shiro? Coran?!”

“Nobody. It’s nobody.”

“It has to be somebody. Is it Pidge? _Keith?_ ”

“Just leave me alone!” Lance exploded, pushing at Hunk in vain. He was shaking, but whether it was from fear or exhaustion Lance wasn’t certain. “I don’t need your help, Hunk. I’m fine.”

“You are clearly not fine, Lance. I can’t just leave you here.” He gestured to the toilet as if it proved his point. “You need help.”

“I don’t need help,” he said, then amended his statement at Hunk’s look. “No one can help me. There’s no cure this far from home. Allura and Coran wouldn’t even know what to do about this. They’d just worry. Like you are right now.”

“Of course I’m worried!” Hunk spread his hands. “You think we haven’t all noticed how withdrawn you’ve been? You’ve gotta work on your act, my friend.”

“Ha. I’ll keep that in mind.” Lance smiled, the kind of relief that only Hunk could bring flitting inside him. “Will you just leave? And pretend you never saw anything?”

“Right, because I’m just going to leave you here!”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you should do.”

“Lance—” Hunk sighed, crossing his arms. “Why are you being like this? Why can’t you just tell me who it is? Is it an alien?”

“Just leave it, Hunk. Please.” Lance couldn’t keep the waver out of his voice. “I don’t want to talk about this. I just want to go back to my room and avoid you-know-who until this whole thing blows over.”

“You know who?”

Lance froze. God _damn_ it. He’d gotten so used to referring to Keith as that in his head that he hadn’t given it a second thought when he blurted it out loud like an idiot.

“Nobody. It’s nobody. Get out of here, Hunk. I can take care of myself. And don’t tell anyone you saw me here!”

“Lance—”

“Please,” Lance said, grabbing Hunk by the shoulders. “Please, Hunk, I’m begging you. Don’t tell anyone. There’s nothing they can do.”

“But if it’s one of us—”

“It’s not,” Lance hurried to say.

“I can’t just _ignore_ what’s happening to you. There’s gotta be something we can do.”

“There isn’t. I told you, it’s just a crush. Please don’t tell anyone, _please.”_

Hunk sighed. He looked put-upon, like he did with most things involving Lance, but he could feel victory at hand when Hunk scratched the back of his neck in that awkward way that meant he didn’t like what he was agreeing to do and didn’t know how to act.

“Fine, I’ll stay quiet,” he said. Then he pointed a finger at Lance. “But you’d better tell me if things get worse, okay?”

“I will,” Lance lied.

* * *

As the missions with Keith got longer and the paladins spent more time together, the lie got harder to keep. Every morning Lance’s hopes that things would get better were dashed. Sometimes he went days without feeling anything at all, but that was only if he avoided Keith entirely.

And Keith wasn’t an idiot. He was starting to suspect something was off, and he wasn’t one to wait around and speculate when he could confront the issue head-on.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked Lance one morning, cornering him outside his room. Coincidentally Lance had just finished coughing up a bouquet, so he wasn’t feeling totally prepared for an interrogation.

“What?” he croaked, blinking rapidly.

Keith’s expression softened and he loosened his stance. “Whoa, you don’t look good. Are you okay?”

He reached out as if he was going to feel Lance’s forehead and Lance flinched on instinct. Keith withdrew his hand, expression going tight.

“Wow, thanks,” Lance drawled. “I’m fine, dude, lay off.”

“Hey, I’m just asking.” He raised his hands defensively. “You sure don’t look fine.”

“Neither do you,” Lance snapped, instantly feeling guilty when Keith drew back.

He shouldn’t have attacked Keith; he was just trying to help in his own way. It’s just that Lance was a little in love with him and Keith’s attention wasn’t exactly helping that.

“I’m okay,” he reiterated, gentling his tone. “Just tired. We’ve been on a ton of missions lately.”

“Somebody always needs Voltron’s help.” Keith shrugged. “If you’re okay, then I guess-I guess I’ll go.” He stared at the ground, frowning. “Sorry I bothered you, Lance.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Lance said, despite himself. He couldn’t watch Keith withdraw like that—especially because of him—without saying something. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m avoiding you. I’ve just got—stuff I’m dealing with.”

“Yeah?” Keith looked a little relieved at that. Lance had hoped that Keith would make an exit at the admission, but instead he stepped closer, his gaze intent on Lance. “You don’t have to deal with it alone. We’re here for you.”

He laid his hand on Lance’s shoulder, focus completely on Lance.

“I’m here for you.”

Lance had no way to prepare for the sudden proximity, nor for the proclamation.

“Um.”

He floundered for a response, settling on dumb silence as Keith grip moved from firm to gentle. He opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to say something, and that was when Lance was hit with a coughing fit.

He turned away from Keith hiding his mouth behind his arm until it subsided. There was something wet and warm on his sleeve, but Lance didn’t have the time to consider his options. It was either get out or risk losing everything he’d worked so hard to protect.

“Sorry,” he managed to wheeze in between hacking, wet coughs. “I gotta get some w-water.”

Still coughing, Lance hurried to squeeze into his suite, careful not to let Keith slip in behind him. He closed the door just as a wave of nausea overtook him and flowers bloomed inside his throat.

* * *

 

**KEITH**

“Lance. Hey, Lance, come on!”

Keith hesitated with his fist above the door, letting his last few calls of Lance’s name fade from his lips.

“What is his problem?!” he hissed, incensed by Lance’s behavior. Despite what Lance tried to imply on multiple occasions, Keith wasn’t an idiot. Even he could tell that Lance had been avoiding him.

Granted, it took him a while.

At first he thought Lance was just being, well, _Lance._ He could get stuck inside his own head and usually that meant things wouldn’t get better until he figured himself out. Keith had initially assumed it was something like that.

Then, as the weeks got longer and Lance looked sicker, he started to wonder if there was more to the fact that Lance wouldn’t look at him for more than two seconds. Their friendship had had its share of ups and downs, going from bad, to great, to now bad again, but to bear witness to that kind of decline in a person was worrying. He wanted to help, but as soon as Keith would walk into the same room as Lance, he would recoil like his worst nightmares had come alive.

If Keith were being honest, it hurt. He didn’t like being treated like a pest when he’d spent so long just trying to get these people to like him as a friend. And Lance wasn’t just _any_ teammate; he was one of his friends. A good one.

Keith sighed and closed his eyes, leaning forward until his forehead hit the wall.

_What’s wrong with you, Lance? What happened?_

It wasn’t like Keith hadn’t _tried_ to find out. Every opportunity that came up he would attempt to draw Lance into conversation but Lance wouldn’t have it. He withdrew further and further from his reach until Keith was forced to try and pull him back.

Fat load of good that had done him. Lance was hiding away in his room and Keith was sitting outside, waiting around like a lost puppy.

Keith pressed his head harder against the wall, gritting his teeth against building frustration. He was so tired of waiting. The Blade of Marmora was all about waiting. Watching and waiting. And when the time came to act, they were usually too scared to follow through!

Keith slammed his fist against the wall, regretting his outburst almost immediately.

He wasn’t being completely fair; the Blade had lost so much in ten thousand years and they had to be really careful. Keith just didn’t agree with their hesitation some of the time.

He opened his eyes to a vision of red.

Blinking, Keith shook his head as if to dispel the image because he couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. It had to be a figment of his imagination; there was no other explanation as to why he didn’t notice the blood on the floor by Lance’s doorway before.

A _lot_ of blood. A sizable trail leading underneath his doorway, which was more than he expected to see from someone with what he claimed was a simple cough.

Keith pressed his palm against the bio-reader next to Lance’s door, holding out blind hope that somehow Allura would have had the thought to give them all access to each other’s rooms in case something happened and they needed help. Like now.

Keith swore when he saw red fill the screen. Rejected, of course. Allura would never compromise their privacy.

Keith let his eyes fall shut in silent regret, gritting his teeth. _Fuck._ He wished he’d noticed the blood sooner. The sight had drilled a terror through him that he hadn’t felt since learning that his mother was Galra.

A forceful sort of panic filled him and his fist met Lance’s door before he could give it a second thought.

“Lance!” he called, then pressed his ear against the metal in hopes that he could Lance calling back.

Silence. Quiznak. _Shit._

“Lance, open the door!” He pounded his fist three more times in quick succession and then hesitated, unsure if he should go find Allura or one of the paladins who might know how to help. But what if there wasn’t time?

His eyes cast back to the ground unconsciously. Keith swallowed.

Keith had been too absorbed in his own shock that he hadn’t immediately noticed that next to the trail of blood, scattered along the edges, were what looked like petals. Curiosity and no small amount of horror seemed to take hold of Keith as he reached down and picked one up, examining it carefully.

“What is going _on?”_ he asked, voice cracking with strain. He let the petal drop to the ground and refocused his efforts on banging his way straight through Lance’s wall.

“Lance, Lance, can you hear me? Lance!”

The stubborn idiot was going to seriously injure himself. Why did he always have to act like he was alone? Weren’t they supposed to be a _team?_

“Lance!”

This stood against everything Voltron tried to convey. Keith would punch him if he wasn’t so worried.

“Come on!” Keith grunted, fingertips reaching at the seam of the door as if he could rip it open himself. He wasn’t Allura so he didn’t have the access, and he was almost too worried to leave and get help.

“Lance, please.” There was a waver in his voice now, panic turning into desperation. He banged his fist on the door twice more, his mind conjuring up all sorts of vile possibilities now that he had seen evidence of Lance’s sickness. Something was seriously wrong and he wasn’t getting any better.

It was like Lance didn’t _want_ to get better.

“We can figure this out,” Keith called. “Whatever it is, we’ll find the answer. Just—just let me in and we can at least talk about it.” He waited a beat. “Lance?” Another long few seconds of silence passed. “Screw this, I’m getting help. And you better be alive in there!”   

The sound of a harsh, wet cough made him freeze in his tracks, heartbeat ramping up with dizzying speed.

* * *

 

**LANCE**

Lance slammed his hands over his mouth, sorely regretting his inability to hold it together when Keith was involved.

The whole time Keith had been banging on his door Lance had been sitting down in front of it. He hadn’t even made it a few steps through before he’d started throwing up flowers—and these weren’t the kind with bitten off stems but fully formed, thorns and all. Lance tried not to look at the mess on his shirt, instead focusing his attention on a random spot on the wall. Maybe if he stared hard enough he’d suddenly wake up and this would all be revealed to have been a dream.

The stinging pain in Lance’s throat begged to differ. Every time he swallowed he winced, made more aware of the state of his insides, and that was quickly starting to scare him more than anything else.

Sure, confessing to Keith would be a miserable experience for everyone involved, but he hadn’t realized just how deeply the disease would affect him until now. He visualized it happening in his dreams and thought about it on the occasions that he could tolerate considering his circumstances, but actually seeing roses covered in his blood made him want to rip the door open and tell Keith everything.

So why didn’t he?

Lance swallowed down another ragged cough as Keith’s voice faded into silence. His limbs refused to move, frozen in place whenever he thought about finally opening up.

 _Just do it,_ his inner voice screamed at him. Every imagined step that Keith took made Lance’s hopeless fear ratchet up a degree, but he still couldn’t move.

 _I don’t want to,_ he thought, the raw honesty in the statement bringing tears to his eyes. He didn’t _want_ to face rejection. Lance didn’t want to have to see the look on Keith’s face when he admitted that he was in love with him and have to deal with that for the next few years that they spent trying to save the universe.

And if it ruined their chances of forming Voltron again, then that was on Lance.

“Are you okay? Lance, answer me.”

Keith was back to begging Lance for answers. Lance remained quiet, swallowing down emotion at the tremor in Keith’s voice.

“You’re not alone,” Keith continued, quiet yet determined. “I just want to help, and—” There was a long, aching pause, where Lance leaned forward unconsciously, eager to despite himself to hear what Keith had to say. “I miss you, Lance. You’re my friend and it feels like I haven’t seen you in a long time. You can’t blame me for being worried. _Please,_ open the door. I don’t want to leave you.”

Whatever it was Lance had expected to hear, it certainly wasn’t that. A well of emotion that had long been building in inside him burst up into his throat in the form of a choked sob.

Keith starting pounding on the door again. “Lance? Lance!”

“Hold on,” Lance tried to say, but his mouth was full of roses. He spat them on the floor, eyeing the mixture of bile and blood with distaste. He was so _sick_ of this disease.

_You can do this. Maybe. Probably._

Keith deserved to know. As much as Lance didn’t want to tell him and deal with—well, everything—he was putting more at risk by keeping it a secret at this point. Lance _had_ to say something.

Taking a deep breath (and instantly regretting it), Lance stood on shaky feet, letting his legs get the feeling back before he walked up to the door. He hovered with his hand over the control panel for a while, his hesitation speaking of how afraid he was of the uncertain future. He glanced behind him, then down at his ruined shirt.

_It’s now or nothing._

He closed his eyes as the door slid open not daring to look Keith in the face while he said what he’d been so afraid to say.

“I’m in love with you,” Lance declared, hating the way that the syllables shook with each word.

His confession was met with silence.

At length Lance managed to wrench his eyes open and watched Keith’s face go from horror to blank shock.

“You _what?”_ he asked, flabbergasted. “You—that doesn’t—what are you even saying? You’re covered in blood and you’re telling me you’re in love with me?”

Keith looked like he was ready to rip his hair out. Caught between reaching for him and shying away from the mess that was Lance, Keith settled for grabbing his arm and tugging him forward.

“We have to get help,” he said, pulling harder when Lance didn’t move. “You’re covered in blood,” he added again, as if Lance hadn’t noticed.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Lance croaked. He felt a few petals tickling his lips and wiped at his mouth. Keith’s lips curled back at the smear of blood across his arm. “I’m not sick. Not exactly. I’m…” Keith tried to push him towards the end of the hall and Lance sighed, taking another first step back. “First, I’m gonna need you to stop doing that. I’m not going to die, okay?”

 _I think._ He wasn’t entirely sure if Allura’s magic healing pods could heal open wounds in the throat. He sure hoped so.

“I have Hanahaki disease,” he continued, figuring it would be simpler to get it out of the way and save himself from further heartbreak.

Keith had stopped moving and was staring at him like he didn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth. “You have what disease?” he asked. “Is that why there are flowers coming out of your mouth?”

Keith had never heard of it before. Great.

“It’s a disease that affects people who are in love. Petals come out of their mouth until they tell the other person and get it resolved, or whatever.” He waved his hand, feigning nonchalance while in reality, his heart was hammering so hard his vision was starting to swim. “So, yeah, I’ve been avoiding that part and it got worse. I’m in love with you, by the way.”

The tremor was back. Lance felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes and swallowed down his heartache. God, just saying it made him want to cry. Why did this have to happen to him? What did he do to deserve this?

“You can save your disgust for later. Just tell me you get it, it’ll be resolved, and I’ll go heal up before our next mission begins and it’ll be like this never happened.”

Keith’s mouth fell open. His eyes were wider than Lance had ever seen them.

“You—hold on. Hold on a second. You’re in love with me?” Keith’s voice rose a decibel at the end and his cheeks were red. He rubbed his palm across his face, blinking rapidly into space. “You let a disease nearly kill you because you were in love with me and you didn’t want me to know?”

There was unexpected anger in Keith’s voice. Lance hadn’t anticipated anger.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about it. Just—” he broke away to cough roughly into his elbow, spewing petals all over his arm.

“I can’t believe this,” Keith said, looking like he wanted to strangle Lance. “You could have told me! I would have been fine with it! More than fine, I would’ve—”

Keith sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I have to tell you something. Something I should have told you a long time ago.”

Lance squeezed his eyes shut. _I don’t want to hear this._

“It’s okay,” he lied, holding back a sob. “I’m sorry I brought it up like this, so just don’t—don’t do this now. Tell me you understand, that’s all I need.”

“No.” Keith walked up to Lance, close enough that Lance could feel the heat of his body before he took hold of his shoulders and forced Lance to look at him. “I need you to hear this.”

Keith paused; sucked in a sharp breath. “Voltron has changed _so_ much about my life. The people I’ve met, the lives we’ve saved. And not all of it was good. I miss Earth. I even miss that stupid shack.” His lips quirked into a brief smile. “I miss a lot of things, but being here, with you—it’s made it all worth it.”

Keith withdrew, as if only just realizing how much he was revealing. Embarrassed, he averted his gaze.

“Um.” Stunned, Lance could do little else but reply with one-word syllables.

“Look,” Keith swung to face Lance, his cheeks red but his eyes hard with determination. “What I’m trying to say is—”

“That we’re really good friends and you don’t want to mess with that,” Lance interrupted. He sounded shaken, unconsciously bracing himself on the wall next to his door. “I get it.”

“Just listen to me!” Keith briefly shut his eyes, hands fisted at his side with bubbling frustration. “You’re so—what I’m trying to say is I’ve liked you for a long time now, okay? You’re infuriating and stubborn and you can get stuck in your own head, but you’re my best friend, Lance. More than that, actually.”

Keith stared at him, attempting to convey with his gaze how much he meant what he was saying.

“We can fix this right here, right now. Tell me what I need to do.”

Lance was now consciously bracing himself on the nearest wall, nearly hyperventilating with the sheer shock of the emotional bomb that Keith had dumped on him. Granted, telling the object of your affections that you were in love with them covered in blood and flowers was probably not any better.

“You...like me.”

It was all Lance could manage, for the moment.  

“You, Keith, like me, Lance.”

Keith’s smile was brief. “Uh, yeah. Pretty sure I made that clear.”

“But I thought—I thought the Hanahaki thing meant that it was one-sided.” He slowly straightened and pushed away from the wall now that he didn’t feel like he was about to fall over. “You’ve gotta be lying. I was throwing up roses, for quiznak’s sake.”

“No, I’m not. As hard as this is to believe—I like you, Lance. I can’t tell you that I love you, because that’s a little...much for me, but I’d happily take you out on a date sometime.”

Keith? A date? A hysterical giggle escaped Lance before he could consider the consequences. He slapped his hand over his mouth, almost expecting a burst of petals to follow through, but there was nothing. Here he was, thinking about Keith—romantically—and there were no flowers coming out of his gut.

“This can’t be that easy,” Lance said. “It’s a disease! Maybe I’m dreaming and this is all a figment of my imagination from losing all my blood out of my throat.”

Keith winced at the mention of Lance and losing blood. “I think you’ve already got that covered. Lance—” He reached out and took Lance’s hand, which definitely seemed real. And warm. And Lance was having trouble concentrating on what Keith was saying.

“Maybe it can be that easy,” Keith continued pleadingly. “Just—let’s go get you healed up and then we can talk about it more. All this blood is really creeping me out.”

Lance opened his mouth, readying himself for a fight. _It’s not that easy,_ he wanted to scream. _I haven’t suffered like this for it to be easy. It shouldn’t work out. We can’t work out._ Instead, what came out of his mouth was, “Okay.”

Lance followed Keith into the pod room in a trance, barely taking in his surroundings. By the time he seemed to blink, Keith was ushering him into a pod, his hands hovering over him as if he might fall if Keith wasn’t there to hold him up.

“I’m fine,” Lance tried to say, but before he could manage his eyes were falling shut. The warmth of the healing setting on the pod enveloped him, luring him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Lance should have changed out of his clothes before going into the pod.

That was made immediately apparent when he woke up and found his clothes soaked in whatever healing juice the Alteans employed. They left his Earth-brand clothes with a few extra holes and stains as if he had poured bleach all over himself.

Setting those concerns aside, Lance stumbled out of the life pod, trying desperately to remember what the hell he’d done to get in there.

After he nearly tripped over the sleeping form of Keith, the memories came back in full.

“Holy quiznak,” he whispered, eyeing Keith like a lion about to pounce. Maybe if he was extra quiet he could sneak back to his room, clean up, and forget any of this happened. That would be the easy out, and Lance was very tempted to take it.

He might have, had Keith’s eyes not fluttered open despite Lance’s hushed tones. He blinked a few times and then stretched, groaning as the movement strained his sore shoulders. Sleeping on the ground like that couldn’t have been fun; Lance was shocked he’d stayed. Maybe he shouldn’t have been.

“Lance, what time is it?” Keith blinked sleepily, glancing at their surroundings. Then he seemed to come to his senses and scrambled to his feet. “Lance! You’re okay! How are you feeling?”

“I feel...okay,” Lance answered, going for honesty. “My throat doesn’t hurt anymore, so that’s...good.”

“Good.” Keith nodded, satisfied with his answer. “That’s good. So, um,” he paused, shuffling his feet in uncertainty, “we should probably talk about...all this.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Lance chuckled but it fell a little flat. “I guess I’m cured now. Or something. So, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Keith smiled wryly. “You know, that’s not how I was expecting my first confession to go. I didn’t actually expect to confess, to be honest.”

Lance’s laughter was a little more genuine this time, and he even managed a smile. “Me neither. Sorry I put that all on you. That was shitty of me.”

“Hey.” Keith took hold of Lance’s hand, drawing him close. “I don’t care about any of that. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Lance could feel his face heating up at the proximity. His heart was going a mile a minute, unprepared for Keith’s sudden honesty.

“Yeah? Well, I’m just glad you’re…” Lance sighed. “I don’t know. My brain isn’t working right now. It’s kind of hard to believe everything that’s just happened. You actually said you like me. As in, romantically.”

“Yeah.” At the mention of his confession he withdrew his hand, focusing on staring anywhere but Lance’s face. It was kind of cute. “I hope that’s okay.”

“More than okay, if we’re being honest here.” Lance smirked, drawing on his false bravado to make an impression. “I always knew you had a thing for me.”

“You knew.” The smile Keith wore suggested he knew Lance was bull-shitting and he was going along for the hell of it. “Were those roses supposed to be a hint for me and not you?”

Lance thought about it for a second and then shrugged. “Maybe they were. Huh.”

“Huh.” Keith repeated the phrase but he was staring at Lance, eyes glued to his face like there was something fascinating about it.

Lance tried to will his embarrassment away.

“As much as I’m enjoying this conversation, I really need to change my clothes. And I _liked_ this shirt too. Not that it was going to be any good after that.”

As if a switch had been pulled, shouts echoed from the other far side of the room. Panicked voices soon followed.

“You think they found the blood?” Lance asked sheepishly. He started walking towards the doorway, already concocting explanations for the mess they left behind, when he was stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Wait.” Keith tugged him backwards. Lance went willingly, allowing Keith to pull him into place. This close, it was easy for Lance to forget that he was just a few inches taller than Keith.

“What is it?” he asked, heart revving into motion.

“It’s—nothing, it’s stupid. I just feel like if I don’t do this right now…” Keith took a solidifying breath, taking Lance’s hand. “Everything is always happening so fast around here and I’ve got my own things to take care of with the Blade, so I’m not sure how much time we’ll have after this and I wanted to…” Keith made a vague motion with his hand, licking his lips. It didn’t really make sense, but Lance wasn’t oblivious to where Keith’s eyes were straying. “You don’t have to say yes right now but I was hoping—”

Lance cut Keith off before he could embarrass himself any further and kissed him.

Keith went rigid, taking the kiss surprisingly well for someone who hadn't exactly been expecting it. All things considered, it was a nice first kiss. Awkward, but that was to be expected.

“You have really soft lips,” was the first thing out of Keith’s mouth when they pulled apart.

Lance chuckled, the tension bleeding out of him almost instantly. No matter what happened, Keith was always going to be Keith, and that was more of a relief than anything.

“Uh, thanks. You too?” Lance hadn’t really been paying attention; he’d been so focused on not messing anything up that he’d hardly enjoyed it. “We should probably go let them know I’m alive. Hunk knew so he’s gonna be the most freaked out.”

“Wait, he _knew?”_ The raw betrayal in Keith’s voice made Lance feel a little guilty. “And didn’t tell any of us?”

“I made him promise.” Lance shrugged, pretending like it was no big deal. “He didn’t see how bad it got so don’t be too hard on him.”

Keith sighed. “Before we leave this room, you have to promise me: no more secrets. I don’t want to see anything like that ever again. At least not when we can prevent it.”

He shuddered, probably still haunted by the memory of Lance coming up to him, coughing blood and confessing his darkest secrets.

“Okay. Fine,” Lance said. He grabbed Keith’s hand and flashed him a hopeful smile. “No more secrets. I promise.” He paused. “You know, since we’re sharing secrets and all, you _could_ use a few Lance-patented beauty tips. A facial scrub wouldn’t hurt, for starters.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Lance.”

“What? It totally would! I’m not kidding.”

“Uh huh.”

They started walking in tandem towards the door, the conversation shifting to more pleasant things after what they’d both endured. Keith wrapped an arm around Lance’s waist, and as they turned to the corner to leave the room, snuck in one final, satisfying kiss that left butterflies fluttering in Lance’s stomach for a long time after.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. I had a blast writing it!


End file.
